Renascence
by philosophie
Summary: Meeting James Potter was kind of like smoking crack for the first time. You take it little by little, day by day. The bad news? You're already addicted. More bad news? Finding a new person to satisfy your new expectations, aka highs. LJ
1. bring your own butterbeer please

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." _Andy Warhol_

Yeah, I was smart and brilliant witch. If I didn't know myself, I'd surely call myself an arrogant bastard after one glance. But, really, I'm not. I've lost track on how many hours I've put into school each day. Why? To succeed. To prove my blasted sister wrong, so I can laugh in her face. Yes, Petunia. You _are_ wrong. I am gifted, no matter what you say. Various teachers have told me so. I would smile in return, perhaps even blush a little bit. In fact, I'm even in something stupid dubbed the "Slug Club".

When I'm swimming in galleons and living the luxe life, she'll regret it.

So tell me why I have a tiny bottle of Absolut (don't worry, it turns into the regular 750 mL bottle with just a simple charm) hidden in the lining of school robes (and _another_ one in my goose-feather stuffed pillow).

I don't know why either. I was just contemplating to tear off my robes, rip it into shreds, and chug down the whole damn thing.

Before I pulled out my wand, I stopped to think.

Was drinking really the solution to all my problems?

In a heartbeat, I decided '_Yes_', and immediately screeched out "_ENGORGIO!_"

The seams of my robe split, but I'd fix it later. That was what magic was for. I was currently in the kitchens of the house-elves, finishing up a little snack that consisted of French fries and lots of ketchup. I leaned against the wall as I took a sip of my Absolut. This was perfect. I ignored the weird, curious glances of the house-elves. "Water," I explained quickly, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. "I'm thirsty."

They nodded and quickly scampered away.

I, Lily Evans, was a hard-working girl with a small addiction. But it was the big picture that really worried me, not the small things.

Life bored me. Life in general was absolutely fascinating, but I've always felt that my life was drab. I had a longing, a secret desire—an _urging_, if you will, to find something new and add a dash of excitement to my tedious lifestyle. Thrills, people had once said, was the thing I lived for. The stirring of that rush was just like a little slice of heaven to me. After all, all work and no play makes Lily quite a bored little girl.

I took another swig of my lovely Absolut. Now, _that _was a thrill.

I liked going on adventures; it was as simple as that. I was brave and daring; perhaps that's why they even sorted me into Gryffindor in the first place. I just loved discovering something new or having fun.

I did not want to be described as dreary; my life goal was to avoid this. I was a complex person—with _layers_, I told myself. Nothing was simple to me, even the Hufflepuffs, who seemed single-celled most of the time. They were also complex people with layers. It's the complicated things inside that build up to make the exterior feel simple. To me, everything was an intricate puzzle.

I knew I could not change... why was I so obsessed with that feeling? I knew I would never change because who can change their true selves? I hated it when people masked themselves because, more often that not, it fails, and their true selves ended up shining through proudly.

Realizing this inevitable truth, I had no choice but to be myself and finally realize—I'll admit it here and now—I was bored with things. I hated having to go to the same old loathsome routine everyday. I wanted life to be fun and exciting. After all, we could be leaving this place anytime, and I wanted to make life a party as long as I was still here.

So, in all my years of living so far, I'd learned that in order to have fun and experience new adventures, you'd have to have some friends. I loved them very much and we spent each passing moment with each other. Being with them felt like going for a quick, relaxing dip in the pool. Instantaneously, there is that feeling when you first jump in and absolute coldness envelops your whole body. You feel like you're in another world. Your problems are gone, your eyes are tightly shut, you can't breathe, and you feel serenely numb, in the iciness of the chlorinated water. With them, I just let all my troubles and worries out the window. In fact, I let everything go. I was pretty much up for everything and anything when it came to doing something with my friends.

I charmed my darling Absolut to be tiny again and stuffed it into my bra. It was the safest place for it for now and besides, my robes were ruined. I realized it was already six o' clock in the evening, and I cursed under my breath—in a ladylike manner, of course—and ran as fast as I could back to my room.

The first Friday night of the year had just begun. Everybody was getting together because we had all just arrived. It was during the beginning of my fifth year and I had been late to meet my best friends. They sat at a circular table, looking ridiculous with loose wife beaters on, and large hats with huge visors.

"Where the hell have you been, Evans?" Andromeda Black demanded as soon as I entered.

"Yeah, it seems like we've been waiting for _forever_!" Narcissa Black exclaimed, the dearly beloved sister of Andromeda, pointed out, shaking her head.

"They insisted on coming," Adrienne Voscura's voice said lazily over from her bed.

"Voscura paid us," Narcissa grinned. "She _begged_ us, so Andy and I came."

"Bullshit," Adrienne replied, flipping through the pages of some magazine carelessly. "They just wanted the free drinks. Besides, I've lost too much at that damn game to keep playing."

I glanced at the table. Large, multi-colored chips were randomly scattered upon our table, along with flutes of what seemed to be vodka.

"I was sipping some of the Absolut. Anyways, it seems like you guys already started without me." I raised an eyebrow.

"Sipping? Chugging more like. You should really stop with the Absolut, you know. Anyways, starting without you was Andromeda's idea, all the way," Cecily Marseille murmured, piling up the chips. "Well, grab a chair! Let's start!"

"Wait, where's Genevieve?" Genevieve Blythe was another of my closest friends.

"Reading or some bullshit like that," Adrienne responded. "Homework, probably."

"On a Friday night?" I heaved a sigh, pulling out a chair. "She should really be here and having fun with us."

"Try to convince her to come then," Cecily answered. "God only knows why she won't leave that Library."

"Perhaps she's snogging Madam Pince," Andromeda suggested.

I put on my visor, ready to play. "Doubtful. As sexy as Madam Pince is, Genevieve is _never_ attracted to anybody." I counted my chips. "I'm missing a red one, Andromeda. Or did you do that on purpose so you could win?"

"You got me, Evans," Andromeda replied, smirking. She threw a red chip at me and I caught it.

"Good luck," I quipped.

We were doing what all studious little fifteen-year-old girls were doing on Friday nights, of course.

"Damn you, Cecily! Burn in hell!" I exclaimed, shooting her a glare.

Cecily smiled back sweetly. She was used to this. "Love you, too."

"You... _suck_," Andromeda finished weakly, unwillingly pushing poker chips towards Cecily. "A _lot_."

"It's just a _game_!" Cecily pointed out, shaking her head, extending out her arms to collect on all the chips. It was a high pot, and, naturally, Cece took it home.

"I agree."

"That's because you _won_," Andromeda shot back.

Cecily grinned. "I know."

Narcissa and Andromeda were two dear girls who were both terribly sweet. Both of them were also Slytherins. I hated how everybody expected that just because they weren't in Gryffindor–god forbid–my friends and I were forbidden to befriend them, let alone even _speak_ to them. I do have some pride, but I don't have much pride for my house–especially with all the idiots in my house. To ignore somebody just because they're not in the same house as you? That's completely daft. But, sadly, my opinion wasn't shared by many in my school. So, to put them in their place, I would whisper the password to our common room whenever it changed and they would do the same for us. I felt it was a win-win situation. They pissed off the jerks in their houses and so did we.

While the girls broke up into a heavy discussion about other card games to replace poker ("Bullshit!" "No, Bullshit is bullshit!" "Hm.. how about Go Fish, then?"), I reflected upon my life so far since another school year was already approaching. My family was all right. They could be a little too damn charismatic at times, but I loved them for even trying. My mother was a simple woman–she kept mostly to herself. She retired from her job so she could be a full-time mother to her children. Unfortunately, I inherited her bright red hair and pale skin. My father, Harold Evans, a Muggle, was considered to be a successful businessman. He was around the age of forty-five, but with his good looks, you'd think he'd be thirty. He had a good-natured laugh, sandy brown hair, and piercing green eyes.

And, of course, who could forget my lovely sister? Petunia had the looks of a classic beauty. Sparking sapphire eyes with different flecks of aquamarine and royal blue, wispy, curly, long blonde hair cascading down to her chest, and pouty lips that were usually lined with a dark colored rouge... she was the pride of my parents, but absolutely abhorred the mere sight of me after she found out I wasn't 'normal'. Maybe it was because of the fact that my parents prided my magical skills and started juxtaposing us as soon as I got my Hogwarts letter. But I was jealous because she had been blessed with the ideal genes. It was clear who the beautiful one in this family was. Even considering the fact that we were flesh and blood, she just simply hated me. So, I decided to ignore her and hate her right back.

Combined with the traits I'd received from my dear mother, I had my father's eyes. They were an emerald green with a delicate sheen to them. But, to myself, I always hated my appearance. I've always felt a little sad whenever I looked into the mirror and saw my green eyes. They reminded me of my father, whom I've never really liked. My mother and I also clashed horribly, just like my auburn curls and colorless skin. I hated expressing my emotions and myself. I do not know why, but it had become a habit—and habits were hard to break. Especially bad ones.

Whatever it was, my parents divorced when I was nine, Petunia twelve. It was hard, of course, but it got better. Sometimes I would summer with my mother, sometimes with my father. It didn't make any difference. We barely talked.

Even though I wasn't my mother's biggest fan, the thing I treasured most was a black leather book she'd given me when I was very young. It was from her private collection of books. It was blank, so I wrote in it. I like to think she loved me when she gave me it, and it will always serve a reminder of that love; the love between a new mother and her newborn child. It was hardly a book anymore, though. Dilapidated black leather covers bound round, thick fading paper. In a way, this is my journal. I scrawled down events that I thought mattered: silly jokes, riddles that made me think, inspirational quotes, and little drawings here and there. At times, it was my sole source of comfort.

In spite of everything I've been through and dislike about myself, I considered myself a happy and lucky girl. I had best friends, some money, good grades, and an escape from the family I disliked.

"Anyways, girls," Andromeda began, brushing a lock of her dark hair out of her face and shot us an excited look—which could only mean one thing. "You know 'the Marauders', as they like to call themselves? They're having a party to kick start another year... I heard it's going to be Gryffindors exclusively." She shook her head and looked extremely annoyed. "Those silly little boys, when will they ever learn? But all the more fun to crash it, correct?"

Narcissa grinned. "Definitely. It would be such a nice surprise for our dear cousin. I can't believe he forgot to invite us."

"He never was too smart," I added sarcastically. "Like the rest of the Marauders."

"Their party last year was pretty awesome though," Cecily mused.

"Those were some good times," Andromeda nodded.

I laughed. "When is it _not_ a good time at one of their parties?"

"Good point," Narcissa replied.

"So, we're going?" Adrienne looked up from her magazine.

We nodded in unison.

"Fabulous." Adrienne looked down again.

I grinned.

And so did they.

&&&&&

The New Years Party exceeded all of our expectations. Like always, the Marauders never ceased to surprise us—even if they weren't the cleverest group of boys. Since it was a Gryffindor only party, it was held in the Gryffindor Common Room. How McGonagall ever let them throw such a fabulous party would always be a mystery to me. The Common Room looked breathtakingly amazing compared to its usual facile splendor of Gryffindor cheer which got dull after awhile. It was refreshing and new with intricate decorations, but still had a hint of the familiar old Common Room, which we all liked to relax in. It was weird, thinking some group of misfit _boys_ doing the job so great. Music was blasting, balloons were floating peacefully, each depicting an emotion, drawn on messily, but still rather adorable. Snacks and drinks from Hogsmeade littered the tables, and everyone seemed to be having a great time either chugging Butterbeer, racing to see how many Chocolate Frogs one could stuff in their mouths, or just other meaningless activities

It was only around eleven—the night was young, and the party was just beginning to start. I looked around for my friends and as I did, something went up my nose. I then realized that candy from Honeydukes was levitating, and filling most of the room!

I giggled as I stuck out my tongue to lick the chocolate frog and then removed some kind of yellow hard candy from my nostril. Mmm... delicious.

"Hey, Lily!" Adrienne shouted, dancing with some guy I had never seen. Was he even in Gryffindor? I guess students from the other houses probably heard about the party and snuck in too. For such pranking geniuses, the Marauders sure had their faults.

Cecily was right next to her, looking like she was having the time of her life. "Get your butt down here!"

I smiled. "No thanks! I'll be over there with the drinks!" I yelled over the loud music. The music was getting excruciatingly loud; I felt as if my eardrums were going to explode. Although parties were fun and all, dancing wasn't really my thing. I didn't like or have the urge right now to be embarrassed in front of my peers.

And besides, today was the last day of the year, so why _not_ celebrate with a drink?

As soon as I reached the bar, I smiled. Gustov Friedrich, a sixth year Ravenclaw who I also assumed was the bartender for this lovely event, smiled back. I guess it wasn't Gryffindor-only. Gustov helped me with, ah, certain affairs when I was younger. Butterbeer ones.

"What'll it be, Lily?" He shot me a smug grin. "Nothing too hard, alright?" His accent was adorable. He was originally from Germany but transferred to Hogwarts his third year from Durmstrang, but I didn't know why. I never bothered to ask.

"The regular," I shrugged. "You know."

He chuckled. "You have quite a few regulars. Which one?"

I paused. "How about butterbeer? I haven't had that in a while."

"Surprising choice. Not hard at all, I'm surprised." Gustov commented. He muttered something under his breath.

A large thermos of warm butterbeer appeared in front of me.

I smiled appreciatively. "New trick?"

Gustov shrugged. "It's handy. Especially for people like you."

I smirked. "Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment." I quickly grabbed the large thermos and settled into a large, overstuffed maroon armchair, which felt even more comfortable than the last time I had sat in one. The party was overrated. The real fun was right here, sitting on my lap. The warm flavor hit my lips like a tidal wave. It was simply delicious and I have never felt so warm in my life.

"Getting drunk already, huh, Lily?" A low voice asked me slyly, nudging me. "_Damn_, Gustov is sure nice to you."

I raised an eyebrow. Sirius Black. Another daredevil who I had yet to go on an escapade with. He was genius, but also very immature. We were put on speaking terms when we were stuck as partners in Potions class third year, and I can safely say that it has not been boring since.

"Actually, this is butterbeer. Besides, there's nothing to do tonight other than dancing. And, sorry, Sirius, but I don't want to embarrass myself tonight." I grinned. "Like you already have... many, many times."

"Just having fun, Lily, just having fun. Anyways, do you have any idea how my dratted cousins got in?" Sirius asked, with a wry smile. He was talking about Narcissa and Andromeda, but I really do not know why he dislikes them so! He settled himself onto a place on the couch next to me.

"Not the slightest clue," I replied vaguely whilst sipping my butterbeer innocently. "Nice decorations."

"Don't be sarcastic, the Marauders have worked loads on this party, if you haven't noticed. For instance, the floating candies... my idea, naturally." He beamed and devoured lemon drop. His face turned sour. "Damn, lemon drops are bitter."

I laughed as I drank the last of my butterbeer, savoring it, since there was no more. But, it refilled automatically and I smiled appreciatively.. "Genius idea, Black. So incredibly genius that one even went up my nose," I replied dryly. "Nice trick."

"Can't say I don't agree with you on that one." He levitated one towards himself. "But come on Lily! Dance like there's no tomorrow! Today _is_ the last day of the year, you know! Why not celebrate with dancing?"

I gave him a sardonic smile. He had the exact same attitude as I did, which was slightly comforting to know. I was a bit tempted; he _was_ asking me to dance. "Alright," I said after a pause. "But you can't make fun of me!"

"Make fun of you?" Sirius grinned. "I think you'd _Avada Kedavra_ me first before _that_ would ever happen." He grabbed my hand and twirled me. Surprisingly, he didn't fling me off and throw me into the wall, like last time. But that's another story. We danced gracefully and smoothly. His dancing sure has improved.

"So, see anything you like? I'd be happy to help." He twirled me.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, Sirius," I scoffed as I rolled back into his arms.

Then, we went into a dip. He stared at me with his daunting gray eyes and raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, _really_?"

"Yes, oh _really_. Everybody knows all the good-looking guys are in Hufflepuff and I see absolutely no Hufflepuffs at this party." He twirled me again and unleashed me from that dip.

"Merlin, that's a _horrible_ excuse." Sirius shook his head.

I clutched on tightly to his shoulder, just in case. "That wasn't an excuse! It was the truth!"

He moved his body to the beat of the rhythm and to my body. "Good, because that was one hell of an example of a horrible excuse. I would've imagined something better from you." He smirked. "After all, you _are_ my protégée."

I snorted. "Protégée? Please, Black! You give yourself too much credit. Teaching me a few tricks up your sleeve does _not_ make me your protégée."

"It's okay, Lils. Keep on denying that I wasn't the one who taught you everything you've learned," Sirius answered sympathetically, patting my arm. "Who introduced you to butterbeer in the first place?"

"Padfoot, somebody's choking on one of your damn lemon drops!" James waltzed on over, with martini in his hand. "Remember what happened last time?"

The color drained out of Sirius's face. "Yeah, McGonagall will pin me up on one of the Quidditch hoops stark _naked_ for a damn week if someone gets sent to the Hospital Wing at a Gryffindor party again, _dammit_! Later, Lily!" Sirius rushed off as fast as he could. Despite his boyish and adorable charms that worked more often than not, Minerva McGonagall was one woman he could not sweet talk out of anything.

"Lily?" James asked. "Hey Lily."

"Hi James," I responded simply. I did not really know him. All I knew about him was he was smart, rich, and on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team as a Chaser. Not partial to meeting new people, I quickly turned around, ready to leave him.

James must've known what I was about to do. "Not so fast. Turn around."

I turned around. I've never really noticed James Potter before, why should I start to now? I decided to give him a little shock just to see how he'd respond. In the few seconds since Sirius had sprinted off, it had gotten a bit boring." Look. All you need to know that my name is Lily." I got a little closer, feeling a hint of a buzz. "Memorize it, learn it, and love it, because you'll be screaming it later." I mustered up my sweetest smile.

He looked quite taken aback, I think he even shrank a little bit. "Well... er, I'm James Potter."

Inside my mind, I laughed at how petrified he seemed right now. "I know. Hello James."

"You're in my Charms class, right?" James asked, furrowing his brow. Suddenly, he didn't seem so dull. He looked quite adorable when he was trying to think. Innocent, too, but we both knew he was far from it.

"Yes. A class out of the many I'm beating you in." I knew he was just another boy in the classes that were all part of my boring life, but tonight he was so adorably confused by me, he seemed exciting and brand-spanking new.

"It's an irrelevant subject—it's stupid." He took the olive from the toothpick, swirled it around in his drink, and ate it. Talking about classes seemed to give him a slight bit of confidence, so I kept pursuing the subject.

"Because you're bad at it or because I'm better?" I questioned. "_Accio thermos_!" My hot thermos of steaming, hot butterbeer had flown into my outstretched hands. I sipped it slowly. It looked a bit ridiculous. I was drinking out of this plastic, average thermos while James looked so sophisticated sipping his vodka out of a martini flute.

He looked up from his drink, with the toothpick hanging out of his mouth with a shocked look on his face. "Well, Miss Evans, I believe if you would check, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I am higher than you in Transfiguration."

"That's because Transfiguration is an _irrelevant_ subject. It's stupid, James. I thought somebody as smart as you would figure that out."

He smiled, taking the toothpick out of his mouth. "I suppose you're right."

"I am. I'm right about a lot of things and great at a lot of things." I took a long swig of my butterbeer.

"So, Miss Evans," James inquired, putting down his drink suavely with a slight grin on his face, "Is there anything you're _not_ good at?"

Following his suit, I put down my large, ludicrous-looking thermos as well. "Well, there is one thing... but you have to promise you won't tell anybody."

"Cross my heart."

It was a stupid thing; I don't even know why I was telling James. "Well, I'm not very good at Quidditch... never even been on a broom before. Sad, huh? I skipped the flying class first year—which is kind of embarrassing since you're the captain, I think, and you're probably the best quidditch player in this school and I'm just about a complete flop at Quidditch... which _blows_."

He laughed again. "That's hilarious, Lily! Quidditch is so bloody easy! A million times easier than Charms! It's absolutely laughable that you don't know how... almost hilarious."

I hated being teased. "Trust me—if I tried and worked at Quidditch, I could beat you. And you don't beat me in Transfiguration."

"Beat me? That's funny, Lily," James replied lightly, "And, yes, I do beat you in Transfiguration... unless the grades that Professor McGonagall updates do, in fact, lie."

"Not a single ounce of truth in them," I agreed, nodding my head. "I'll beat you in Quidditch... one day."

He leaned in, his eyes glittering and intriguing. "Evans?"

"Yes?" I purred, with quite a few traces of tipsiness.

"Next time, bring your own damn butterbeer," he whispered.

"Huh?"

James leaned back and smirked. "Thanks to you, we're running out. Now _I _have to go and refill all the butterbeer that _you_ drank. So thank you very much, Lily, for drinking all our butterbeer!"

Well, fuck me.


	2. eyes like grass and dirt

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." _Carl Jung_

Now, I woke up the next morning with the most excruciatingly painful headache I've ever had the pleasure of bearing, but a new feeling of longing and piqued interest in my heart. It was odd, though. All I drank was butterbeer, but then again, taken in vast amounts, butterbeer can act like alcohol. I've certainly learned that the hard way before and again today.

Even as I was suffering, I could still recall his flustered expression, with a faint grin. It was different, compared to his usual infamous cockiness which I've heard lots of.

Unfortunately, we barely spoke after the party. He was such an interesting character; I wondered how he remained so intangible these past few years to me. I knew more about him than I led on. Secretly, I thought Sirius and him were geniuses. They pulled the most decadent and articulate pranks at and on the least expected times and people.

He was always surrounded by people. Beautiful, waif-like girls surrounded James and the rest of the Marauders. Everybody laughed at his jokes, not out of pity or fear, but because they were genuinely funny. He was somebody with a great sense of humor. And I was somebody who _loved_ to laugh. You could already see what a beautiful friendship we would have.

I would see him in the halls during passing time and try and catch his eyes during the very few classes we had together. Many times I've seen him catch my eye or stare at me back. I tortured myself, constantly questioning, was he interested or was this just a desperate case of wishful thinking?

Oh how dearly I wanted to be close to him.

I was disgusted with myself, obsessing over a male like this. I decided to deny it. Deny this amorous feeling burning a hole in my chest, but I did realize something: life is like a box of chocolates, you're never going to know what you're going to get. I was not expecting to be obsessing over James Potter, even though it made things interesting.

As soon as I had finished my thoughts about comparing life to something such as packaged candy, I peeled my warm blankets off my body and slowly trudged into the bathroom, willing myself to get ready. It wasn't so easy since my head was throbbing in pure agony. I opened the bathroom cabinet as quick as I could and chugged the last of the lingering hangover potion. Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I felt instantly better.

As apathetic as I could muster, I casually asked Cecily and Adrienne what they knew about James.

"James Potter," Cecily paused as she stared into the mirror, contemplating her next choice of which cosmetic to use. "Nothing too special about him, why?" She picked up a tube of chapstick and smeared it on her lips. Cecily stared at her reflection and smacked her lips a few times. "Perfect."

Life wasn't fair, but then again what was? Cecily was so naturally pretty, she didn't even need makeup. Besides, she didn't have a hangover the size of Britain. I didn't even bother to look in the mirror. As long as I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and flossed, I was good to go. No amount or combination of makeup was ever going to make me look even the slightest of pretty.

"James Potter?" Adrienne asked from my left side, hooking an earring on her left ear. "Oh, he's _wild_. The things I've heard he and his little friends have done... ooh, just absolutely blows you out of your mind."

"Like what?" I asked, trying to sound as careless as I could while dragging a comb through my ragged hair.

"Trashing the teacher's lounge, raiding Professor Slughorn's secret cabinet of ingredients, pranking Severus Snape at least once a day if that slimy git's lucky..." Adrienne said as she hooked on the other earring on the right ear. She smiled at her reflection. "You know, the usual."

I sighed.

"What about Peter Pettigrew?" Cecily asked as she put her long, blond hair into a ponytail. "I think he's kind of cute."

Adrienne wrinkled her nose as she leaned in and scrutinized her reflection. "He's too short."

Cecily snorted. "That's because you're practically six feet tall." Peter was around 5'5" while Cecily was just one or two inches shorter than him.

"You are pretty tall, Adrienne," I agreed. I barely made 5'1". I was rather petite, but I liked it that way. "But, Peter _is_ adorable."

"I know." Adrienne sighed melodramatically and curled her eyelashes. "It's so hard to find a guy that's taller than me. Most are just a couple of inches shorter, which is... _okay_, I guess. But it just looks so weird. I mean, imagine Lily dating somebody that was five feet!"

"Lily's dating somebody who's five feet?" A voice said, entering the bathroom. It was Genevieve with a grin on her face. "Why am I not surprised, Lily? You finally got somebody around your own height." She went to her own sink and tied up her hair.

I slapped her arm playfully. "Adrienne said it would look weird if I dated somebody who was five feet tall. I mean, it doesn't matter how tall he is! I mean, as long as he's funny, nice, sweet, and junk, it'll be fine!" Adrienne handed me her eyelash curler and I curled my lashes as well.

"Of course, it doesn't even matter. He's practically your height anyways," Genevieve added as she whipped out her toothbrush and added a thick layer of toothpaste unto it. "By the way, thanks for not waking me up." She started scrubbing her teeth vigorously. Genevieve was quite obsessed with dental hygiene and forced us all the brush daily. And that was why I brushed and flossed twice a day, every day.

"How could we wake up somebody who was snoring over our 'WAKE UP!'s?" Cecily asked lightly as she put away her toothbrush in a pink cup. "We tried, Gen, we really did. Anyways, I've got to go down!" Cecily hurriedly exited.

"Oh, me too," Genevieve said quickly as she scrubbed her mouth some more and spat out her toothpaste and splashed some water onto her face.

As she left, I shot Adrienne an odd look.

She put on a coat of lipstick and gave me an offended look. "Well, don't look at me."

I sighed as I left the bathroom. I wanted to find out something _interesting_ about James, but all we talked about were midget boys. No one I knew seemed to know him that well. Idly smacking my head (perhaps I even got in a little bit of sense); I swore to myself that I wasn't going to drink ever again. Furthermore, I divorced my beloved Absolut and vast amounts of butterbeer and decided to marry Marlboro Lights.

For the next few days, James and I barely spoke. Why would we, anyways? We had nothing in common besides having our classes together. I'll admit it I was definitely intrigued. I was still gathering information about him. But it's mostly the same old. Rich, handsome, nice, good quidditch player... blah blah blah.

Three days (and a few hours, give or take) after the party, I was studying in the library for a Transfiguration exam and being disturbed by anyone was the last thing that I had wanted. It was a Sunday and most people were eating dinner by this point. The library was pretty much empty, except for the procrastinators who waited until today to finish their homework, just like me. The dormitory wasn't really the best place to study for an exam, what with all the gossiping, chattering girls in there. I needed the quiet and tranquility of a library to keep me going, which was maintained wonderfully by the shrill and strict Madame Pince with her piercing, murderous glances. I had charmed my hair blonde, which looked absolutely horrible with my skin, but I just felt like I needed an escape. Besides, I was beyond unrecognizable. My lustrous eyes were a dead give-away, as usual, so I masked them with sunglasses. Besides, Transfiguration was a subject that I have been neglecting lately.

I had just finished my essay on Switching Spells and had just started to practice turning a hedgehog into a pincushion. Last time I had Transfiguration, it was going all right, but my pincushion had too many spikes. So I thought I should perfect it today. I took out my very sharp pincushion and placed it in front of me and whipped out my wand. Trying my hardest to concentrate, I flicked my wrist and wand in as many ways as I could think of. There were still three spikes.

A heavy Potions book with random pieces of parchment sticking out dropped on the desk neatly, but loudly.

I snapped out of my stupor of concentration and looked up blankly. "James." I was a little taken aback and very surprised. Remembering what I had said to him, I'm surprised he even sought me out. Any normal guy would've been intimidated to death.

"At your service," he replied, bowing a little.

"At my service? Wonderful, do you think you can help me fully turn a porcupine into a pincushion?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

James looked down. "Look, you don't need my help. You've already did it."

I looked down and there were no more spikes on the pincushion. It was fully transfigured. "Well, McGonagall will be proud," I declared.

He started flipping through his potions book. "Mind if I study with you? Tables are all full."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't mind."

He smiled at me. "You know, you are one little lady that's pretty hard to find."

"And is that a compliment?"

"Well, it certainly isn't an insult, Miss Evans. It was certainly hard to find you through all these faces in the library, too. What're you doing, wearing sunglasses? It's certainly not sunny in here."

"It is in my world."

"Your world? I would love to go there."

"Sorry, bud. The entrance fee is so high, even _you_ couldn't afford it. Besides, it's only allowed for special people."

"You'd be surprised at the things I could buy, Lily. Whatever the price, name it."

"You're so persnickety."

"Sometimes I can be even more persnicketier." James wiggled his eyebrows.

I suppressed laughter. "Don't make me laugh, Potter. I'm trying to concentrate here, which, thanks to you, I cannot anymore."

"Why can't you concentrate?"

"Because you're here."

"Then I guess I'm a distraction?"

"That would be correct."

"How wonderful, I've always wanted to distract other people and now I've finally done it."

"I'm so proud of you, Potter."

"So am I."

"Good."

"Glorious day, today, isn't it?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

"I like that word."

"Because it has 'fuck' in it, right?"

"Partially. Also, it has 'absolutely' in it, split by the word 'fuck', which makes it extremely extraordinary. Like persnickety."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way, Potter, because there are hardly any extraordinary words, let alone extraordinary _anything_, left in this world."

"Tell me about it. The world is such a sham."

"No need to state the obvious."

"On the contrary, Quidditch is rather extraordinary."

"Oh you and your bloody Quidditch. When will you boys stop with that?"

"Perhaps never. It is the greatest sport invented."

"Just flying around chasing a ball."

"Two, actually. While batting away two large ones. Anyways, it's better than your Muggle sports."

"Like I give a damn about Muggle sports. I wish the concept of sports was never even invented. It's useless."

"You just don't like Quidditch and sports because you're no good at them. You skipped our first flying class, now what kind of a foundation is that?"

"Oh, shut up Potter. Some day I'll learn."

"It's really an extraordinary feeling. Like how 'abso-fucking-lutely' is an extraordinary word."

"That doesn't really make sense, Potter."

"It does if you think long and hard about it, Evans, dear."

"I don't mind you calling me 'Evans', but please don't call me 'dear'."

"Why not? 'Dear' sounds better than 'Evans'. More affectionate."

"True, but it makes us sound like an old, bickering married couple."

"What's so wrong about that?"

"I wouldn't ever want to grow old."

"And why not? Everybody ages, it's part of the aging process and the cycle of life."

"Being old means dependent on somebody because you can't do any damn things for yourself."

"You're dependent on your parents now."

"Yes, but not while I'm at school."

"But when you go home, you are."

"Still. Anyways, I'd hate it if my tits sagged down to my knees."

"Yes, that's not exactly a very pretty sight, is it?"

"Oh, shut up, Potter. That's what happens to old women."

"Then let's hope you never become old because your tits are looking fine right now."

"Gee, thanks, James. I feel so special, now that you're looking at my tits."

"Why are you calling me James all of a sudden? Are you embarrassed, perhaps? Flushed, maybe? Well, it's okay, Lily. I mean, you're rather intimidating yourself."

"Shut up, Potter. I am not embarrassed or flushed. And I'm not intimidating either."

"You are abso-fucking-lutely right, you know that, Lily? Because when people aren't embarrassed and aren't flushed, their cheeks always turn red. And you are intimidating. It's surprising intimidating people like you get embarrassed."

"Shut up, Potter."

"It's quite nice, actually. It matches your hair. How _did_ your hair become so red?"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Your mother, maybe?"

"Shut up, Potter."

"Or perhaps your father? He's Irish, isn't he?"

"I got my skin and hair, which clash horribly, from my mother. My eyes are from my father and I've always wished for his brown eyes or even my sister's blue eyes. She's perfect, you know. Blonde hair, blue eyes, skinny. I'm just plain awkward. An albino midget, if you will."

"Your eyes are very bright. A very bright green."

"Thank you."

"You know, they look like the color of grass."

I shot him a look.

"No, really."

"Well your eyes look like the color of dirt."

"Actually, my eyes are more of a golden shade, but whatever you say. Grass and dirt go together, you know. Grass grows on dirt."

"I know. They still look like dirt."

He laughed. "Except they really don't."

"They do. If my eyes look like the color of grass, yours resemble dirt."

"Fine, then. Maybe they do. That makes us a pair. Anyways, you're not awkward, Lily. You're unique."

"I guess. Maybe."

"Trust me, you are. Being pale, green-eyed—excuse me—_grass_-eyed, and red-haired is better than being the average blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. It makes you unique."

"Are you trying to cheer me up?"

"Possibly."

"It's not going to work. I still want to have blue eyes and blonde hair. Grass eyes are horrible."

"Well, you're already half-way there. Why not charm your eyes blue?"

"Because then I'd be exactly like my sister."

"Isn't that what you want?"

I paused. "I don't want to be _exactly_ like her. She's horrible."

"Then be yourself."

"I try. But sometimes I don't know who I am."

"That happens to all of us, love. We don't know who we are until we discover ourselves."

"How?"

"A major epiphany, I guess."

"How shoddy, I hardly ever have epiphanies."

"I know. Life sucks."

"It does."

"The world isn't fair."

"Obviously."

It was silent. We had run out of things to talk about.

"Finish your homework?"

"Pretty much. The pincushion was the last of it."

"Excellent work, by the way."

"Thank you, James."

"That's Professor Potter to you, Miss Evans!"

"Thank you, Professor Potter." I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You, being a professor, of all things."

"It's not that funny."

"Yes it is."

"Is not.

"Is too."

"Is not.

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is not."

"Ah, I told you."

"Shut up."

"Trying to use reverse psychology on me? Tut, tut. It'd never work. Nothing works on me."

"You were supposed to say '_Is too_'. You ruined it."

"Oh, really? Damn, I hate ruining things."

"Well, you do seem to have a talent for it."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?"

"No, it isn't."

"How unfortunate."

"Mhmm..."

"Oh well, too bad. Unfortunately for you, Lily, I guess I'm going to ruin this conversation." He checked his watch. "Yep, Quidditch practice. Sorry, Lily. I've got to go."

"You and your bloody Quidditch."

"Shame I didn't get any Potions homework done."

"A real shame," I agreed, flipping open his Potions book. In it was a piece of folded parchment with a few lines of James's scrawl on the top. "You haven't started? You realize we're supposed to have three feet by tomorrow?"

James shrugged. "I've got a brilliant mind and know how to use it well. Besides, I'm excellent at managing time."

"Then you better be leaving, James. You're late." I smiled, resting my chin in my palm.

He glanced down at his watch briefly and muttered 'shit' under his breath. "First time that this has ever happened."

I nodded. "I'm sure. Better be going, James."

He grabbed his Potions book into his arms and added, "Until next time, Lily." He then turned neatly on his heel and strode off.

I leaned back in my chair, biting the tip of the quill in my mouth, and smiled. So there was going to be a next time?

Hmm... interesting.

&&&&&

Now, my father and mother both solemnly declared they were devout Catholics and firmly loved and worshipped God. However, their behavior proved them to be devout alcoholics worshipping alcohol instead, which is, perhaps, why I married my beloved Absolut in the first place. It's in my blood.

When I was younger, my mother and I fought nail and tooth. Not just about church, but everything else, too. She pleaded, yelled, screamed, and forced me to go to church every Sunday. I always obliged, being the obedient, darling daughter I was at the peak of our arguments before she blew a fuse or gave herself a heart attack. I even confessed my sins to the pastor once due to my mother's persistent encouraging. I admitted only _some_ of the things I done. Yes, it was I who set a snake in Petunia's room and used up all Mother's expensive designer lipstick on my face so I could see how war paint looked on my face in case Native Americans attacked us. It was I who would stay up late and read with a flashlight under my bed, despite repeated warnings from my parents, sister, and nannies, which ultimately led to the demise of my eyes (I now wear contacts, blasted things). It was also I who stole Mummy and Daddy's bottle of wine and drank a small cup every day. I knew I was fucked up. Before starting Hogwarts, I was already a boozer.

Confessing did not feel good at all. I knew the pastor wasn't there to judge, but underneath all that holiness and piety of him, I knew he was shocked by the things I did and thought me to be a bad Catholic. But I don't disagree with him; I'm the worst Catholic or religious person you'd ever meet. After the confession, I walked out, feeling vulnerable and looked down upon. My pride was stomped on the pastor's sharp intake of breaths, which screamed out judgmental, during my confession and my mouth was forever kept shut since. I stopped letting people in after that.

Maybe with the exception of my friends. But they weren't dressed in white, commanding a church of religious nuts, and preached the way of God all the time. If they did, they hid it extremely well.

I had the biggest grin on my face as I walked out of the library that day. I was giddy with euphoria as I tightly clutched my large Transfiguration book with both arms. As weird as it was, he thinks I have grass eyes. I retaliated by claiming his eyes are dirt. They aren't, really. Nevertheless, we're a pair. He even said it to himself. I was smiling this incredibly stupid smile as I entered my dorm. All my friends were there, each on their own bed, doing their own thing, probably putting off homework, except for Genevieve. But then again, she probably had hers done.

"What's up with you?" Cecily asked as soon as I entered the room, looking up from her bed. She had obviously noticed my state of ecstasy.

"Nothing, nothing..." I responded, being as blasé as I could as I walked over to my trunk and dumped down my book. I sat next to it, fingering a weathered edge of the cover.

She looked at me suspiciously. "You're not drunk, are you?"

I certainly felt as if I was drunk. The world seemed like a blur. "Now, if I was, do you really think a drunk would answer that question correctly?"

"Good point." She looked down again, flipping through her magazine.

"Well, if you're not drunk, what bloody happened to you?" Adrienne demanded from her bed. She was painting her toenails a glaring, fire-engine red with the utmost contemplation. The color was almost as red as my hair. "And why the hell are you blonde?"

"Oops," I murmured, whispering the charm to cancel out my blonde hair. Instantly, my hair was bright red again. "I didn't want to be disturbed at the library."

"Now what the hell happened in the library to cause you to be so skittish?" She looked up, screwing the nail varnish bottle tightly closed. Once Adrienne left the top opened and it spilled all over the bed. The smell of it was horrible and our room stunk of that disgusting smell for a week. Nothing we tried charmed out the smell, not even the strong scent of patchouli and flowers! It was incredible how strong it was but unfortunate for us because we all had to camp out in the other dorms for a week. "Don't lie to me, I know something happened. You have that insane look on your face. Besides, when you walked in, your grin was wicked huge."

I flung myself on the bed, pulling the sheets over my head. "Shut up," I remarked muffledly. Secretly, I could hardly wait until next time. Should I seek him out or play the hard-to-get card and make him find me again? Oh, the choices... it was so hard to decide which one to settle upon.

_Grass and dirt go together, you know. Grass grows on dirt._ His words stuck to my mind. Grass and dirt _do_ go together. Grass _does_ grow on dirt.

"What did happen, Lily?" Genevieve had finally looked up from her own Potions homework. "You sound... different."

I took my head out from my pillow, flung my sheets off, and cleared my throat. "I just had a very nice conversation. It is rare to find somebody who I can talk to for more than a few minutes, other than you three. And... that is all." Once again, I dragged the sheets over my head, feigning sleep, and ignoring their curious questioning. Dirt-eyes wanted to see me again and that's all that really mattered right now. Abso-fucking-lutely.


	3. sex and irrelevant asshats

"To alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life's problems." _Homer J. Simpson_

During the time I attended Hogwarts, it was the height of the 70's and the sexual revolution was just spreading to England. I wasn't sexually promiscuous or anything like that, but I did believe a girl ought to enjoy some fun once in awhile. I knew I didn't have an ounce of Catholicism or religion in me, but I wanted to remain a virgin until I married. Being virginal seemed like the epitome of being ecclesiastical, which fazed me, and for a short while, I had considered just losing it with an hot, sexy escort or the first guy that would have me, but I knew, deep down, that it was important to me and even as cliché as it sounded, I wanted it to be special.

I had enough regrets about my life and I didn't want to collect anymore. The tearful morning afters and awful aftermaths of some of my friends were obvious hints to me that losing it would probably be another big regret. Besides, I knew it took a lot more than the sole purpose of taking a girl's virginity for a guy to walk down the aisle and make everything official. And if I married the poor guy, which would take a lot more than whispered sweet nothings and butterbeer for me to accept a proposal, he'd be stuck with me for life. When I had settled down, I had no intention of divorcing... unless I came to eventually loathe him.

Out of all of us, Adrienne was the most openly sexual one. She had plenty of boyfriends who she had showed many displays of public affection for, but whenever her virginity was questioned, she would mumble about how she'd rather not say and steer us into another subject. I concluded that she was either embarrassed to admit that she still had her flower or too ashamed to admit that somebody had already stole her essence. Either way, we left it alone. When the usually talkative Adrienne started to mumble, we knew not to pursue the subject too hard. Cecily was one of those brave loudmouth smartasses. I knew she had lost hers probably when she summered in Germany and wrote to me constantly about her seductive tour guide, Aleksandr, and how she had been dropping the most obvious hints to him. When she returned and we were reunited at Hogwarts once again, she told me with a tinkering, reminiscing laugh that his English was absolutely atrocious, but then again, her German wasn't all that great, or even correct (she could never bring herself to spit in other people's faces or pronounce those _r_'s exactly), but who really gave a damn when his accent was downright divine (much like Gustov's, that wonderful bartender mentioned previously who supplies me with a seemingly never-ending supply of butterbeer and other certain drinks when the time is right)? She never really told me she had lost it, but there was just that extra sparkle in her eye, which absolutely screamed it. Genevieve usually spent all her time studying; I doubt she probably even got to first. Let alone half of first.

The question of sexuality was raised once more, because they were convinced some lowly fellow had plucked my _flower_ and that I had regretted it or something along the lines of that.

My friends bothered me the whole night about it. They got even more worried when I turned down a game of poker (Cecily's luck at poker seemed never-ending and was draining my energy and my money). Even Genevieve went as far as to suggest that I check into the Hospital Wing that night and stay there under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey. But we all knew that bitch hated me because I snuck in too many times to steal her healing potions for hangovers and whatnot, so it was useless.

It was a boring day already and an even more boring afternoon session of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The teacher for this class, Professor Vargas, was droning on about Dark Creatures. He was a new teacher (I'm convinced that the position is cursed, but Genevieve begs to differ, apparently it's just all the firings and hirings are _concidental_) and he had already mastered how to put us all asleep with the magic of a few sentences into a lecture. He probably caught on that most of the class was asleep, poor guy, so he assigned us all partners to do a project on.

"I want eleven inches from you... _each_. Lily Evans and Sirius Black. Jack Smith and James Potter. Remus Lupin and Adrienne Voscura. Genevieve Blythe and Mundungus Fletcher. Cecily Marseille and Taylor Wells. Peter Pettigrew and Rachel Stevens..." Professor Vargas continued to list the names, but I didn't listen since I didn't really give a damn.

This was all a ploy to keep us awake, and daresay, it'd worked.

James shot an annoyed look at Professor Vargas for not pairing him with Sirius.

Sirius rolled his eyes at James and motioned for me to go over.

When I was younger and feeling vixenish, I would strut my stuff, wearing my short shorts and a low tanktop around the whole school. When I was studying with a boy, it was so devastatingly hilarious to watch his reactions to what I was wearing. I would be talking about humans being transfigured into objects (on accident, of course) while just innocently pulling down my tank top, almost to the point of revealing my bra, and see his eyes grow a little bit wider, flick down for just a second, and then up to my face again. It was a horribly trampy thing for me to do, I know, but then again I was just having some harmless fun. It gave me a slight rush, doing something condemned to be so coquettish. It was my version of that boring game you play with yourself during a boring car ride. Except there are no car rides or roads in my game. Same concept, though.

I smiled as I walked up to Sirius, I was contemplating unbuttoning the first few buttons of my robe, letting my sequined tanktop show from below, but I decided against it. Sirius was a fellow thrill-seeker and friend, I didn't think of him that way and I didn't want him thinking I was like _that_.

I sat down primly and opened the book; fully aware that Sirius's eyes were on me with an amused grin.

"It's interesting to see how we've never been partnered together until today."

I looked up. "_Very_ interesting. Maybe we should give Vargas some more credit for putting the two most brilliant students in the room together."

"About time, huh? He's finally opened his senses."

I chuckled. "Let's get started."

"Anyways, I hear you drank all our butterbeer that night, did you?" He tilted his head to the side. "I don't know anybody who could've finished off as much as you did."

Sirius had caught me off guard--something which I hated and feared. I hated not knowing what to say, usually I blurted out something I regretted. I shrugged my shoulders, only because I couldn't think of anything else to do, really. "Couldn't help myself, Black. You know how it gets with butterbeer."

Sirius nodded, tilting his head back to place. "I do, I really do. Too bad I had to leave before I saw you drink it all."

"I never knew that you were _that_ scared of McGonagall," I replied smugly, reminiscing the expression of fear and horror on his face that night. Both classic and priceless at the same time. "Sure, she's strict sometimes, but not to the extent of the shade of pale your face turned."

Sirius exhaled. "Oh, the things she can do, my dear, dear Evans... they are too delicate for your prissy little ears."

"Sure."

"So, I also hear you're getting on fine with James?"

Again, I was a little thrown off at the mention of James, but I kept my composure and just shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess. He's not too bad. He ruins things," I said with a small smile playing on my lips, remembering our chat. "But I love how you keep hearing things about me. _Do_ tell, are you gossiping about me? Because if so, I'm flattered Sirius. Flattered you've taken an interest in myself."

I really did wonder if he was gossiping about me, and if he did, I could care less. I had one of the most interesting, best, and fascinating conversations with James yesterday in the library. In less than a span of thirty minutes, we'd laughed, flirted, discussed aging and my appearance, talked about my wretched sister who I _never_ talk about, and denoted ourselves with the most absurd nicknames ever. It was beautiful.

Sirius stared at me, studying me. I could feel his eyes on me, running over my features and examining my appearance. "You're... interesting," he said slowly. "I don't know why, but you are... very interesting."

I was bemused. "Is that good or bad?"

"None." Sirius smiled. "And that's what's so interesting about you."

I rolled my eyes. "You are such a fucking little minx, you know that? Trying to trick me with your irony and your cognitious wordplay... but I'll take it as a compliment."

Sirius smiled (when does he not?) and simply said, "I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do."

"Anyways, would the second most brilliant student in the room like to accompany the first most brilliant student in the room for some drinks at Hogsmeade tonight at, perhaps, eight?"

I clapped a hand to my mouth, feigning shock. "But, Sirius! It's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Frankly, my dear... and, you, my Lily darling, I presume, know the rest," Sirius answered lazily, finally skimming through the text of the book and jotting down some notes about dark creatures. "When is this due, anyways?"

I scowled, ignoring his question, looking down, and began scrawling some notes about dark creatures. Pairing up the two most brilliant students in the room seemed like a wasted move, since we were really doing nothing. "Asshat."

"That's irrelevant."

I scoffed. "_You're_ irrelevant."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "But I _do_ hear irrelevant asshats are quite the charmers, aren't they?"

"Frankly, my dear... _I don't give a damn_." And with last smile, relishing the moment and the odd look painted on Sirius's face, I got up and left.

&&&&&

"You're late," I stated impatiently. My breath made tiny puffs of mist into the cold air that vanished as fast as it came out. I crossed my arms against my chest protectively, partly because I was angry, and partly because I was freezing my ass off. I didn't know whether or to come tonight since the invitation was so casual, but I decided so the fuck what, and it's not like I had anything better to do. Besides, Sirius was apparently similar me, and I adored me, so it would be interesting to get to know him (or would it be me?). But so far it was far from interesting since I stood in front of the Three Broomsticks, waiting for him for about a half an hour.

"No, _you're_ just early." Sirius brushed some leaves off his robes. Before I could even ask, he grinned. "Detention then ran into a bush, don't ask. Irrelevant asshats tend to do that sometimes, sorry."

"I wasn't going to, and you said eight," I asserted, suppressing a smile. I could not stand lateness, but I couldn't stand _not_ to laugh at Sirius, despite his irrelevant asshat-ish tendencies. "And, my dear Mr. Black... it is thirty minutes past eight right now."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, I didn't know you'd be here, to be honest. We never agreed on it."

He was right, but I never said I didn't want to go. "I agreed to it silently, didn't you know?" I asked. "Guess we're not telepathic."

"Shame," Sirius sighed and opened. "So, shall we?"

"Fine, but you're paying for all of it." I walked in and was immediately warmed by the smell of that freshly made butterbeer that had just started simmering, the honey-sweet smell of newly brewed mulled mead, and the body heat of all the individuals in the room who was chattering and laughing away. The energy and liveliness of the room was contagious, and I felt more hearty and upbeat than ever.

"Feels great, huh?" Sirius asked, lending his hand. "Here, come on."

Sirius pulled me over to one of the booths on the side. They were the old-fashioned type of booths, the ones with the bright red cushions and intricate designs on the table.

"Sit," Sirius said, motioning toward the booth. We both sat down on opposite sides, and I could throw in a snide comment about how unSirius it was of Sirius to offer me a seat, Madame Rosmerta bustled over with a paper in her hand and a quill in the other. She looked excited, probably because Sirius Black, one of her favorite customers, had just waltzed in. Of course it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, not even a weekend in fact, but who really gave a damn when it came to Sirius Black?

"What can I get you two?" she asked. "Sirius, I hope you haven't been getting in any trouble lately! Where's James? I thought you two were joined at the hip!"

So many possibilities... so many ways to spend Sirius's money.

Sirius stretched and yawned. "Nah, I needed a night away from the old ball and chain. Getting a little clingy. You know how it is."

Madame Rosmerta laughed. "You two do seem conjoined at the hip sometimes."

"Sometimes? More like always."

I didn't really know Madame Rosmerta all that well. I guess one could call me a regular at the Three Broomsticks, but I've never really talked to her unless I was listing what I wanted to drink. Of course, I knew she was a very nice person with a warm heart and big smile, so I didn't really dislike her, but something made me feel like a third wheel. Perhaps the flirting?

"Madame Rosmerta? I'll have three mugs of butterbeer, two glasses of mulled mead, some gillywater, and cherry syrup with soda, ice, an umbrella, and a maraschino cherry on top, pretty please?" I flashed a smile at Madame Rosmerta.

"Quite an order," she commented, giving Sirius a knowing look.

He seemed a little shocked by my order, but he was probably used to it. I had a tendency to shock people sometimes.

"I'll just have a butterbeer," Sirius said. "Thanks Rosie."

"You're welcome, Sirius," Madame Rosmerta replied, and with one last smile, she left to get us our drinks.

"My, my, Evans... I didn't know you were that thirsty. I could maybe get you some water..."

I smirked. "I just like to spend your money, Sirius. I think I'm getting really good at it."

Again, he did his annoying head tilt, and this time it caused his hair to fall in his face. "Oh, really?"

"Completely." I leaned back on the booth and crossed my arms again, shooting Sirius a challenging look. "So what was the point of this meeting anyways? Meeting of the geniuses? We do have brilliant minds, but we accomplish nothing, so it is quite sad."

I guess Madame Rosmerta really liked Sirius because our drinks came quicker than I imagined. Before I knew it, I had three mugs of hot, hot butterbeer, two glasses of mulled mead, gillywater, and cherry syrup with soda, ice, a paper umbrella, and a single, luscious, red maraschino cherry on the top staring at me.

"Quite a display," Sirius commented.

"You should see my meals," I answered. I grabbed the handle of one of the mugs containing butterbeer and raised it toward Sirius. "Cheers."

He put wrapped his fingers around the handle of his mug as well and raised it to me. "To the future of us, wreaking havoc on Hogwarts. Cheers."

Our glasses clinked and I took a long-awaited gulp of butterbeer. I could feel this warm, magical-feeling substance ooze richly down my throat and I savored the moment. Fuck being successful, _this_ was the life.

"Heaven, huh?" Sirius asked, apparently noticing my bliss.

I nodded. "Completely." I reached into my to my robes and pulled out my miniature bottle of Absolut. Ahh, it had been too long. I unscrewed the cap and poured in some into my butterbeer. Heaven times two. I looked up at Sirius and grinned. "Adds a little punch."

Sirius laughed. "That is so you. Anyways, the reason I asked you to come meet me here tonight and spend my money was... well, at the party the other night, I thought to myself, wow, Lily Evans is pretty fucking hardcore, you know? Why haven't we hung out before? I need to get to know this girl. And, that's... it."

"Romantic," I replied, screwing the top back on and stuffing it back into my robes. "I'm pretty fucking hardcore? Thanks, now I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Sirius ran his fingers along the handle of his mug. "Hey, you're the only person I know who spikes their own butterbeer."

"I like to think of myself as original." I drank more of my butterbeer. The Absolut, believe it or not, just made the taste stronger and me a little more tipsy. God, life was the shit.

Sirius's eyes flicked over my face and gave a little snort.

I ignored him and held the maraschino cherry between my thumb and forefinger. "You know, I can tie these into a mouth just using my tongue." I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Kinky, I'm sure," Sirius answered, taking another sip of his butterbeer. "So can I."

"Shut up."

"Give it to me."

I did and took a sip of my cherry syrup soda. Surprisingly, it was good and I was having a great time opening and closing my little paper fan.

Sirius put the maraschino cherry in his mouth and I could clearly see his eyes focusing themselves to the ceiling and his mouth moving around.

As he struggled with the cherry, I enjoyed the silence, and started on all my drinks. They were all delicious, of course, but a little bland for my taste. Thank goodness I had a little more of my Absolut left and I added a dash or two to each of my drinks. You would not believe how much the taste was heightened after I added in my extra special ingredient.

Sirius put his fingers in his mouth and pulled out a cherry with, well what do you know, a knot in it.

I clapped. "Beautiful, Black. Absolutely beautiful."

"Now you can tell all your friends about it." Sirius took another swig of butterbeer.

I laughed. "Sure, why not."

It was silent again and awkward. In fact, our whole conversation had been awkward. With James, it was so easy. The words came out and what we talked about we beautiful. It was like liquid poetry sometimes. I could almost finish the ends of his sentences, but with Sirius, it was the opposite. I opened the paper fan again, marveling at it. I took another swig of butterbeer, finishing my first mug.

"Do you want some gillywater?" I asked. "I really can't finish it."

"I'm not surprised," Sirius answered. "Never seen a girl drink so much and I'm kind of craving some Absolut-mixed-with-gillywater right now, too."

"Damn, I thought I could finish this all and I haven't even started on my mead," I said.

"Sad, Evans," Sirius answered, finishing off the gillywater, and shaking his head. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Let's just share the rest, alright? You'd probably get too drunk off it all, so let's just share the drunkenness."

Sirius took a glass of mead and drank it all, in one gulp. He didn't even burp afterwards.

I stared at him. "You're good."

He took my butterbeer and grinned. "I know."


	4. to drink or not to drink

"What comes around goes around." _Ancient Belief_

It seemed odd to say it, but... life was good. It was quite good, actually.

Finally, it seemed all the years of getting fucked over and bad luck were finally gone and the karmic balance of the world was finally in order, with some _extreme_ payout to myself, and I had to admit--it was nice.

My grades were good, friendships blooming like there was no tomorrow, and I was as happy as can be. James Potter was still the subject of my usual wonderment, curiosity, and questions. He was truly like no other--it seemed that I had already met all the other type of individuals there were to meet in this world, but suddenly, fate hurls me a James Potter. Finally, _finally _the world was paying me back the favor that I had bestowed onto it of being a generally nice, decent person all these years by adding James into my life and having my life start to work out again.

I knew the world may not be fair at times and seemed that it was surely a bitch, but it sure had one hell of a sense of humor.

It was another afternoon, with the sun shining brightly in the sky, giving the day a sort of a lazy air. The crisp breeze wafted softly through my hair as I sat besides the Great Lake, on a rendezvous--if you will--to satisfy my continuing urge and craving for adventure. It was a perfect day to spend lounging around in the sack, but I decided to go outside.

A slip of words escaped from my lips; scattered with the lightest sprinkling of cursing... but only a little here and there.

A pause ensued, and surprise, surprise, a deep laugh followed.

"You swear like sailor, Lily... possibly even worse." He grabbed a flat rock and threw it out onto the lake as it skipped the surface a couple of times.

I shrugged and lied down, running my hands through my hair and resting my head on the palms of my hands. "What can you do? I've always aspired to be one, and look at me now! I could practically be a captain of a damn ship. Nice throw, by the way."

"That's new. I don't hear that too much... and thanks."

"You're too flattering," I smiled and tucked a loose curl behind my ear. I was playing the shy and innocent card. Most importantly, I was working it.

A joyous laugh deepened the crease of his large double-lidded eyes and his broad smile became even broader, revealing two rows of perfect straight, pearly teeth. "You're a funny one."

I looked at him, smiling, again, since having figured him out. "Now I know why everybody loves you, Remus. Fuck Sirius and James--why, _you're_ the real charmer of the group, aren't you?" I tapped his nose gently, which felt warm to my cold fingertips.

The laughter died down as Remus dabbed at the corners of his eyes and exhaled slowly. "I wasn't expecting that."

I rested my face in my palms and grinned. "I'm just full of surprises, you know." I had fed him anecdote after anecdote, line after line, and his quick wit matched mine (I'd like to think I have a quick wit--however, it doesn't _always_ work or responded that quick unfortunately). The boy was starved of any _real_ humor, so I decided to just add a little to his life.

It was my first time conversing with Remus J. Lupin and the reasoning behind it was deeply embarrassing. After a horribly boring afternoon class in Herbology, I ran as quickly as I could, back to the castle so I could eat a quick snack. Imagine my surprise when I ran smack into Remus after I turned around and waved a quick _hello_ at the ever infamous James Potter. We both fell to the floor and the contents of our bag were strewn everywhere.

I was gathering my things and as soon as I looked up, those nice, soft hazel eyes, shaggy brown hair that fell into his eyes perfectly, and adorable grin of his won me over--I just _had_ to talk with him. I said a few lines about me being clumsy and whatnot and yet, he rebutted with a witty line about how all ladies had grace. He'd called me a lady... and I'd instantly fallen in love with him all over again. He was the sweetest boy I had ever met.

I sighed and smiled at Remus again. I managed to steal him away from his friends, feigning much needed help about Defense Against the Dark Arts (I was barely managing a passing grade, so it wasn't that large of a lie). He was easily persuaded, which was rather daring of him--leaving his confidantes for a mysterious, seemingly "dangerous" girl (I'd like to think of myself as a badass at times, yes)--which surprised me.

How nicely our conversation flowed surprised me even more. "Honestly, Remus--you don't have to be so coy with me. Now, I know the Marauders are nothing but a sham--you're the brains of the whole charade, why, you could probably even run it by yourself."

"I don't think I could say that, we all have our different areas of expertise... for example, you, being a sailor. Something unexpected, but also something very, very true, I've realized today."

I grinned. "Thanks, Captain."

"I thought you were the captain?" Remus asked.

"Nope, I'm only a sailor."

"Oh yeah, that's right."

"So, how's it going Remus?"

"Good, good." Remus nodded. "Making up some new tricks with Sirius, James, and Peter for the lovely Slytherins."

"Tricks are for kids, not Slytherins," I answered loftily. "Silly rabbit."

"Wasn't I supposed to helping you with your homework?" Remus asked.

"Damn," I muttered. "I suppose so."

"... or was this all a clever ploy to get me to sit out here and talk with you?" He raised an eyebrow.

I laughed and put my hands up. "Guilty. You caught me, Remus. Now cuff me?"

"Gladly, my dear, but it looks like we have some company, now." He pointed behind me and I could clearly see two distinct figures: Sirius... and my lovely, lovely, lovely dirteyes. I had missed him.

"My, my, my... I hope we aren't interrupting, are we?" Sirius asked silkily, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "After last night, I hope you aren't cheating on me, Lily."

I put my hand over my eyes to block the sunlight and squinted at the two figures. "I'd never cheat on you, babe. You're too pretty. Besides, the lake is looking rather nice today, it's quite lovely to look at."

Sirius sat down right next to me and answered flatly, "Nice? Lily, darling, it's just a large quantity of _water_, there's nothing beautiful about _that_. And, thanks. You're sort of pretty too. Not as pretty as me, though."

"Anything can be beautiful, Sirius," I answered. "You just have to look at it."

Sirius snorted. "I think roses are beautiful."

"That is so cliché," James snorted back.

"What other flowers are there?" Sirius asked indignantly.

"Lilies," James said, staring right at me as I blushed a shade of red darker than my hair. "I prefer lillies."

Sirius smirked. "I'm sure you do."

"Oh, damn. Sirius, don't we have to, ah... do that thing?" Remus asked, mouthing something I couldn't understand, while getting up. I made it a mission of mine to learn how to correctly read lips one day. Then there would be no more mouthing around Lily Evans ever again.

"Ah, damn," Sirius exclaimed. "See you later, babe."

He was so smooth. No wonder so many girls liked him.

James sat down next to me. "I'll have to apologize on Sirius's behalf for his limited views on beauty."

I tried to muster up a grin. "No need."

I looked up at him and my heart was pounding and my whole body was shaking. This was, if I was keeping track correctly, our second conversation and dirteyes was looking directly at me. His eyes were so dark, brown, and luscious, it was impossible not to get lost in them.

He looked away, at the lake. "You're right, this lake is beautiful," James replied quietly. "The reflection of Hogwarts makes it look so..."

"Tranquil?" I supplied, letting out a laugh.

"Yeah," James agreed, his dirt eyes clouded with thought. I wonder what he was thinking.

"I know what you mean," I nodded, staring out into the lake, letting myself get lost in it.

We both exhaled, enjoying the breeze of the evening. The sky wasn't quite dark yet, but it wasn't exactly bright out either.

I was just about to say something to James when I noticed a single, tiny, sterling silver hoop strung through his ear. I was shocked, for it had caught me off guard. For a moment, I stared at it, lost. It was the most unbelievably _sexy _thing I've seen on a guy since leather pants.

"Your ear is... pierced?" I asked incredulously. If I wasn't already in love with him already, this was the moment I _definitely_ fell in love with him. This boy... was just wickedly amazing.

He turned to me and grinned. "Why yes. D'you like it? Doesn't it make me look like the badass that I so deeply strive to be?"

I brushed my hair out of my face and chuckled. "I think your records of detentions give you that, not some silly little metal in your ear. Besides, I'm pretty much the only badass around here, so sorry. No more spots open."

"True." He nodded wistfully and chuckled. "Is it really silly?"

I shrugged. It's not like I was going to admit to him that I found it deeply and utterly sexy.

He shrugged too. "I dunno, I think it's interesting."

I couldn't fight it anymore. Temptation had deemed me as a victim as I reached over and pulled on it.

"So it _is_ real. At first I thought it was fake because you don't look like you could handle the pain of a needle." I smirked.

"Needles don't bother me."

"Uh-huh. I would've pegged you as one of those who scream higher than the average woman who sees a spider."

"C'mon, Lily. I'm a man."

"I'm so sure," I replied sarcastically. "Remember when you fell off your broom second year or something? From the library, I could hear your woeful shrieks of pain. I guess you _are_ the man."

"My god, Lily." He rolled his eyes hazel eyes. "I fell like 20 meters... no one could withstand the pain of a 20 meter fall, Lily. Not even you, my dear."

I snorted. "More like 20 centimeters."

"Okay, so I don't know the exact measurements... but it _was _pretty high."

"I'm sure it was, love," I replied sardonically. I don't know what it was, but making fun of James Potter was so absolutely fun. Somewhere hidden in the back of my mind, I also knew it was a mild flirtation. But, really, who cared?

"Jealous, Lily? Jealous that I survived such a life-threatening incident?" He raised his eyebrow. "I see how it is."

I guessed he liked to taunt me, too.

"Life-threatening? If that was life-threatening, then I think I should be dead now with all the experiences _I've_ gone through."

He chuckled. "Lily, you're funny."

"I'm actually told that quite often."

I then lay on my back with my head resting on my arms and looked at the sky and James followed suit. We were both staring at the massive abyss above us.

We exhaled deeply again as the sky darkened just a little bit. The stars on the sky started becoming visible, the smell of grass settled in along with the humming of the crickets, and in the lake, you could see the beautiful reflection of the full moon.

"Today would be a bloody good day for Quidditch," James commented. "Bloody great day, in fact."

I laughed. "I could imagine."

"I still think you should change your mind about Quidditch. It's the best fucking game invented."

"Not this again, dirteyes."

"You're absolutely no fun, grasseyes."

"That hurt."

"Good. Hey, what d'you know... we're actually in grass. How ironic."

"Hilarious. We're also near dirt."

"Grass does grow on dirt, after all."

"What a smart observation."

"I know, thank you. So you'll try Quidditch one day then?"

I paused. My mind was desperately screaming _hell no_ but I didn't want him to think I was scared or anything.

"Lily?"

"A day far, far in the future while I am deeply intoxicated with alcohol," I mused and turned to look at him. "Then I would possibly try it."

"If you're drunk and you try to fly, you'll die."

"Perfect."

"Really?"

"No. I couldn't die right now. There's too much on my list to do."

"List?"

"Yeah, kind of a things-to-do-before-I-die list."

"Oh, of course. Everyone has one of those."

"I know, it makes me feel accomplished. I have goals, dammit."

James laughed. "I know what you mean."

"I'll add Quidditch to my list tonight, James. How is that for you?"

"Abso-bloody-lutely perfect, Lily."

"You sure do like saying absolutely with all sorts of words jammed in the middle."

"Abso-fucking-lutely, Lily. It's quite fun, you should try it."

"Believe me, I do. I try to fit it in as much as possible."

"Good."

There was a pause in our conversation, but it wasn't awkward at all. It was the last thing from awkward, really. We were just two people, living on the same planet, and enjoying the same sky shared by all of us in this universe.

"There seems like a million of them." I ran my fingers through my hair once again (nervous habit, I guess) and folded my hands gently on my stomach. I could feel the outline of another shrunken Absolut through my pocket. I began to carelessly finger the outline of the minute bottle embedded in my robes. To drink or not to drink in front of James... that was the question.

"There really are, probably." I decided not to since public drunkenness (especially public drunkenness in front of James) wasn't exactly a good thing. He'd seen me drunk once before, but that wasn't going to happen again. I wouldn't let it.

"Isn't that amazing?"

"Millions of stars?"

"Yeah. Well, the whole concept pretty much."

"It is."

I don't know how much time we spent out there, but it began to sun started to head toward the mountains while the day began to fade away.

"Hm, it's getting dark out... we should go," James suggested, getting up.

"Ooh," I teased. "Are we scared of the dark?"

He stopped and looked down appraisingly. "You wish."

I laughed. "Thought so. Give me a hand?"

"Sure, grasseyes." He held out his hand and the moment I slapped mine unto his, I knew something had started. It was like a clap of lightning, signaling the beginning of something truly special. Goosebumps decorated my skin as I hastily pulled down my sleeves, not wanting him to see. He was pretty strong and with one energetic pull, I got on my feet.

We started to head back toward the castle.

"That was, ah... interesting," he said as soon as we reached Hogwarts.

"Yeah," I said, trying my best not to blush and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"It seems you know all my friends now... well, except Peter, but that should happen in time, shouldn't it?" James asked.

I laughed. "Three down, one more to go."

James chuckled. "I guess so."

I looked up at him hopefully, just for a moment. "So... I guess I should go."

He looked at me and paused and it seemed he was going to lean forward and sweep me off my feet and kiss me, but he just stepped up closer to me, looked me in the eye, and smiled that wicked grin of his one last time. "Bye Lily."

"Bye James." I turned away and headed for the Great Hall. I felt defeated and confused.

Out of all the people I've ever met, James Potter was the most confusing one I've ever met. He was so smart, handsome, daring, clever, benevolent, and witty... and the thing about him was that he was _genuinely_ nice. He was a nice boy and nice boys have so much appeal because they're just so damn nice! Everything he said was stuck in my brain, like I had somehow managed to memorize all of our conversations. His witty lines were engraved into my head and I cursed myself days later for not thinking and saying something equally witty to reply back with. After the first conversation, we barely spoke (not even any "hi"s in the hallway or anything) but then just now we had our second conversation, which also made me (slightly) giddy. And even with all these bonuses, he was still single! Of course, it wasn't as if he repelled females, there were plenty of girls at Hogwarts who die to go out with him and yet not even one could agree to date? Was there something potentially wrong with him? No, that couldn't be it--haven't you seen him? He's perfect. He's to _die_ for. Or maybe it was just that he set the bar so high that no girl at Hogwarts filled his criteria for a girlfriend? Was there _no one_ at this school good enough for James Potter? He didn't seem to think _that_ highly of himself, from what I've seen. Of course, I've heard loads of stuff, but can you really trust what you hear from other people? Especially to some of the people who attend my school? Of course not.

From this moment on, I couldn't help but deny I was interested. We would be so wonderful together... Lily and James, Lily and James, Lily and James--even our names sounded great next to each other.

"Hey, Lily!" A voice behind me shouted.

I turned around and saw that it was James. "Yeah?"

"Keep your calendar open because one of these days, I'm going to teach you Quidditch whether you want to or not." He shot me a grin and from here, I could see the glint of his sterling silver hoop earring.

I just rolled my eyes and kept walking.

Oh, that sexy, _sexy_ earring.


	5. wishful thinking and some luck in poker

**Author's Note**: Happy New Years! And I'm a dipshit for not updating within the last eight months. But now I'm back! Screw real life, yeah?

**Renascence**

_Chapter Five—wishful thinking and some luck in poker  
_

"We all want to fall in love. Why? Because that experience makes us feel completely alive. Where every sense is heightened, every emotion is magnified, our everyday reality is shattered and we are flying into the heavens. It may only last a moment, an hour, an afternoon. But that doesn't diminish its value. Because we are left with memories that we treasure for the rest of our lives." _Unknown_

If I was previously infatuated with James Potter, then the infatuation had already fully evolved into a deep obsession after I saw James wearing his earring.

James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter. James Potter.

... was running through my head constantly.

But that wasn't surprising. Not at all.

But at the same time, it made me wonder, did the thought of me run through his?

Possibly.

...or was I just kidding myself?

I prayed, wished, hoped, wanted, craved, longed, yearned, and desired this, but I knew I shouldn't get _too_ deep into that. I've already suffered several cases of wishful thinking that have scarred me for life and many other lifetimes to come.

I was currently reflecting upon my life and aspects of it (such as a certain James Potter) over a cigarette. I decided I wasn't cut out to be a smoker since I was already pretty much a full-fledged alcoholic (okay, maybe not, but definitely an aspiring one) and the smell of smoke on your clothing wasn't too pleasant but a cigarette every once in awhile couldn't hurt. I wasn't in my trademark spot; a spot right next to the Great Lake where I had conversed with Remus a few days ago, but instead the Gryffindor Common Room. I really loved it here when it was quiet. Maroon and gold are colors that perfected and complemented each other to no end. I could get lost in my maroon-and-gold world.

Believe it or not, I thought about life a lot. I pondered, wondered, mused... whatever you'd like to call it. And every time I finished brooding, I couldn't help but be a little sadder.

I mean, if you thought about all the shit that goes on in the god damn world, it's quite saddening.

Take this new criminal that graces the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ pretty much daily–he calls himself Voldemort. And apparently, he hated muggleborns (present company included) and halfbloods–basically anybody who wasn't "pureblood". Now, I call that a big stinking pile of b-to-the-s.

And even more good news-–he had a bunch of followers. Many who were wizards. Woop-de-fucking-doo.

This was certainly great news to me. Muggle-_loathing_ wizard out to get Muggleborns with a bunch of followers. A complete dream come true!

I had to admit I was a little scared, but I think anybody in my position would be.

I wasn't scared of dying, but rather the notion itself. Just not existing–that's what I was scared of. If Voldemort suddenly got the crazy idea to Apparate to Hogwarts to find me and _Avada Kedavra_ me on the spot tomorrow, I wouldn't be happy. If death was painful, so be it. I could handle it. But the one thing I couldn't stand was to suddenly die all of a sudden and not accomplish all these things I wanted to do.

I had around a _billion_ more things I wanted to do. I wanted to do dumb teenager things like get shitfaced and drunk and high and read Plato all at the same time (I've done all those things, but separately). I wanted to go streaking and skinny-dipping. I wanted to experience some life-changing things like, travel the world (and I mean the _world_, as in all seven continents, not just some random country I've never been to). I wanted to eat a thousand brownies at once and overdose on the chocolate goodness of it all. I wanted to jump out of a helicopter with only a Mugglemade parachute on hand. I wanted something I've never experienced in my life, not ever–to fall in love (and possibly with James Potter), which was something so ambiguous to me, I don't think it had a meaning anymore. I wanted to lose my virginity. I wanted to reproduce, even though I hate kids, but my genes are way too good not to be passed on! Hah-–joke. But I _did_ want to pass on my genes to some little thing and watch that little thing grow up and help that little thing become the best damn little thing it could ever be.

Oh, life. You tricky little bastard.

Then, there were the more ludicrous things. I want to hug my god damn sister and resolve things. I want to save all the Muggleborns and Halfbloods from Voldemort and give them extra magic to be protected from that crazy son of a bitch. I want to look that sonofagun in the eye before I slashed his throat. I want world peace. I want to fall in love, get married, and live in a great big house with all my little things running around and live the standard dream which everyone strives for.

...I wanted to do a lot of things. Since I felt so damn karmically blessed, I was feeling optimistic. These days the glass was half-fucking-full, all right? I, Lily Evans, was on top of my game. I was high on life and ready to fly.

"Lily, what the _fuck_ are you doing."

I looked up. Adrienne.

I shrugged. "Just the usual, chillin' like a villain."

I could understand her bemused smile, as I was lying upside down on a _very_ padded chair, my legs flung over the back and my head touching the ground. It's actually quite comfortable. And feeling all the blood in your body drain to your head is also a good feeling. And right now, _all_ my blood was concentrated in my head.

"In the middle of the common room? Well, you're going to break your back sitting like that."

I glared at her. "It's late. Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

Adrienne grinned and sat down into another overstuffed chair. "That's why I'm about to go up to our room, m'dear. McGonagall is totally up in my ass about Transfiguration. She thinks I'm a slacker."

"Um, Adrienne?"

"Yes?"

"You _are_ a slacker."

"...I know, but still. It's insulting."

I snorted and stood up. The feeling of my blood rush back to every vessel, artery, vein, or capillary in my body was amazing. "McGonagall is a tough bitch."

"Where is everyone else?"

I stretched luxuriously. "C is out on a date. I have no idea where G is."

"So we're now going by letters?" Adrienne asked, raising a brow.

By the time I was done stretching, I had become an unruly pile on the floor of the common room, but that was fine with me. I was too damn lazy to care. "Of course, A. It's easier to say the letter instead of the whole word. I'm conserving as much energy as possible."

Adrienne smirked. "Energy for what? All you ever do is lie around."

I glared. "Energy in case I want to pursue any other endeavors I can think of."

"Other endeavors, is it?"

"Yes, other endeavors," I said primly. "I will have you know I am very fond of endeavors."

"Oh, really. I haven't noticed." Adrienne reached into her robe and pulled out a small flask and sipped it slowly. "Who is C out with?"

"Some guy from Ravenclaw," I answered lazily, examining the ends of my hair. Split ends were a bitch and bugged me to no end. I'll admit it--I'm a perfectionist.

"Oh, they guy she was dancing with during the party?"

I squinted. Nine split ends, dammit. "Yeah, I think so."

Adrienne swallowed. "Tobey Daniels. I think they might be getting serious."

Wow, fuck the split ends. "They're a 'they'?" I asked, sitting up.

"I know," Adrienne replied and shot me a grin. She took another swig.

"Since _when_?!"

"Dunno."

"Well, fuck me," I muttered. Cecily was finally getting serious.

Adrienne snorted. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Don't hate, appreciate."

"Good quote."

"It's my motto."

"Cecily is getting serious. Well, I'm a proud mama."

Adrienne got up and stretched, stifling a yawn. "Me too. We raised the kids fabulously. Well, L. I have an assload of homework to do, thanks to our dear house Head. Night, dear."

"Night," I called as she trudged up the steps. Poor Adrienne--I was so fucking glad I finished Transfiguration already. Procrastination will really kick your ass--a lesson I learned the hard way.

"My, my, my... what do we have here?"

I rolled my eyes and got up. "Hi Sirius."

Sirius walked over and enveloped me in a bear hug as I groaned in annoyance.

"You know, Lily, you're the only girl who has ever said that to me," Sirius declared disapprovingly.

I snorted. "I'm sure. What are you doing here so late?"

Sirius grinned. "I could ask you the same thing."

The night was actually still young, according to my time, but it was to tease Sirius. "I asked first."

"First the worst, second the best, third the one with the treasure chest," Sirius answered in a singsong voice.

Oh, the maturity. But I loved him, so it was okay. "Um, that doesn't apply, Sirius. Dear, there's only us two here."

"..."

"So by that, you _have_ to tell me."

"Damn."

"I know. But it's okay--I'm excellent at keeping secrets. You can trust me, dear Sirius."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Then you'll love what I have."

"What do you have?"

"Tut, tut, tut. Curiosity killed the cat, Lily."

"True, but I'm intrigued. Tell me!"

Sirius grinned mischievously. "Show, not tell."

Wonderful words that Sirius had twisted to sound like such a come-on which was his expertise. And with that, he pulled out an old piece of parchment from his pocket while he beamed.

I crossed my arms and shook my head. "Sorry to say, but I'm a little disappointed, my friend. It's just a raggedly old piece of parchment."

Sirius waggled a finger. "Don't be so quick to judge, friend. I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

I was just about to throw another quip right back at him, but I couldn't, as I was temporarily frozen by what I saw on that cruddy old piece of parchment.

An intricate and meticulously drawn map of Hogwarts appeared right in front of me, with moving dots that seemed to represent... people.  
"This is... amazing," I breathed. "Is this accurate?"

Sirius grinned. "Of course. It took us three years to map out all of Hogwarts. And then about another year to make the map. It was worth it in the end."

"I'm impressed." I considered myself an avid adventurer, but when it came between Sirius and I, it was he that won. By miles. "You must've had a hell of a lot of free time to do all this."

"Photographic memory," Sirius replied. "It runs in the Black family. And the secret to my grades. Plus James is actually smart. So is Remus."

"Ah," I said, rubbing my chin wistfully. "And I thought that was just cheating."

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly. "A little here and there, when I don't have time to glance over the material."

"No wonder Remus was made prefect," I commented.

Sirius snorted. "Of course. Everyone thinks of him as innocent."

I sighed. "Who wouldn't, with that face of his? He's so cute I could just eat swish him in some Absolut and gulp him down."

Sirius grimaced. "Don't remind me."

I laughed. "Jealousy doesn't look good on a woman... nor you."

Sirius simpered. "Thanks. You know, you should go to the Quidditch game tomorrow."

"Oh, god. Spare me. I don't know a thing about Quidditch. Plus tomorrow is Friday Night Poker with the girls."

"Oh, with my _wonderful_ cousins, right?" Sirius asked sardonically.

I stuck my tongue out. "Yes, whom I happen to _love_. They're wonderful."

"Andromeda is okay, but Narcissa... _eh_. And Bellatrix... _super_ eh. Anyways, that's at night, isn't it? The game will be over by then."

"But..."

"Butts are for ashtrays, Lily."

"What if..."

"No ifs, ands, or butts, Lily. You are coming and that is final. We need to hang out more."

"Thanks for the sentiment, Sirius," I replied. "But we can hang out some other time... do other things, you know?"

"Tempting," Sirius replied, "but you should go. You really don't want to miss it."

I gave him a look.

"Come," Sirius said. "You'll like it."

"Can I bring butterbeer?" I asked. Keyword: _beer_.

Sirius chuckled. "Sure."

"Fine," I said. "You know, if I am late for poker, I _will_ have you killed."

"I am willing to take that risk," Sirius said.

&&&&&

I missed the Quidditch game.

I'll never know what went on that afternoon.

I had classes all day--the hell finally ended at three, which apparently was the starting time of the game. I was fully intent on _going_ but... I just lied down for a minute or two, and hell, I completely fell asleep. My mistake.

Sirius would forgive me, I knew it.

But the one thing I didn't miss was Friday Night Poker with the girls! They were all already there, waiting for me.

I lazily shoved my visor onto my head and yawned. "Hey, you guys."

"Hey yourself," Adrienne replied.

"Have you seen Genevieve?" Cecily asked.

I frowned. "No, I haven't. Actually, it's been awhile since I've talked to her."

"Where is she these days?" Adrienne asked.

Narcissa shrugged. "Who knows."

Cecily got the cards out. "Ready?"

Everyone nodded.

"Your hair's a mess," Andromeda commented.

Narcissa agreed. "It is."

I ran a hand through my hair and reached for the chips. "Just woke up," I replied groggily.

"You _did_ go to classes, didn't you?" Cecily asked, shuffling the cards. "We were about to start."

I arranged my chips neatly in front of me and tied my hair. "Of _course_. I never miss my classes. But enough about me, what about _you_, Cecily? What's up with you and this Tobey Daniels? Ooh."

"Oooh, Cecily's got a boyfriend," Andromeda cooed.

Cecily passed out cards to everyone. "Oh, I wouldn't call it that. We are just hanging out."

"Oooh, Cecily's _hanging out_," Narcissa cooed, peeking at her cards. "Fold."

"Oh, come the fuck on, be mature about it," Cecily ordered sternly. She looked her cards and smiled. "I'm in."

"Alright," I said in a serious manner, looking Cecily in the eyes. "Have you hit it yet?"

Cecily groaned as she pushed a few chips forward. "You're so vulgar, Lily."

"It's one of my specialties," I replied proudly, as everyone laughed. "So you're planning to bang him, right?"

"We'll see if he's up to par." Cecily raised an eyebrow. "Are you guys in or what?"

"So that's a yes, right?" Narcissa asked.

Cecily gave us a _look_.

It was a yes.

Narcissa squealed. "You should, he's completely gorgeous."

"He is," Adrienne nodded, pushing a few chips into the pile. "I'm in."

"So cute and isn't he also on the Quidditch team?" Andromeda asked. "I'm out."

Cecily paused. "You know what? I really... don't know."

Everyone burst into peals of laughter.

"Guess you guys don't talk very much about Quidditch, huh?" Andromeda asked merrily.

"Or talk about other things, right?" Adrienne added.

"Andromeda, they're busy doing _other_ things, of course," I said, slapping her hand lightly. I looked to see my cards--holy _shit_! A royal flush. "I'm in."

"Oh, my mistake," Andromeda replied.

"It's just... so much easier to snog him than talk to him," Cecily explained. "He's hot, of course, but... we just don't have too much in common. It's a friends-with-benefits type thing. Lily, add in your chips."

"Yeah," Narcissa agreed. "I know what you mean. Boys are fucking _boring_."

"Not all of them are," I replied as I put in a single green chip that would hopefully bring me some luck with some other random. A royal flush was an excellent hand, but you could definitely count on someone who was a poker god like Cecily to pull out something amazing such as a five of a kind. "Boring, that is."

Adrienne shrugged. "Agreed. Some are actually okay. Cecily, raise?"

Cecily threw in a bundle of more chips. "I have a good hand," she said.

"Like who?" Andromeda asked. "There's, like, no one."

"Lily has someone," Adrienne announced.

Oh shit. They know about James. But how? I've been so quiet about it. Fuck.

"It's your dear cousin, Andromeda," Adrienne said. "Yours too, Narcissa."

"Sirius?" Andromeda asked. "You like Sirius, Lily?"

Oh thank heavens. I laughed. "No! He's just interesting to talk to."

Narcissa raised a brow. "Sure."

"He's a mastermind at adventures," I said and looked Cecily in the eye. "I raise."

"Damn it, I'm out," Adrienne said.

"Okay, Lily," Cecily said. "Show me 'em."

We both put down our cards. A full house!

I shrieked in delight. "I beat you, Cece! Take that!"

Cecily crossed her arms and swore loudly.

"I beat Cecily, I beat Cecily, I beat Cecily," I sang happily as I reached my arms out and scooped in all my winnings. "This is a joyous occasion. Live it, love it, remember it, because it sure as hell won't happen again for a long time."

Everyone was laughing.

"Lily's damn right," Adrienne said. "Guys--this will be the day that Lily beat Cecily."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Come _on_, I don't win that much."

"Well, I'm leaving," I announced.

"Already?" Narcissa asked. "You're just getting started!"

"Nope," I said. "I got lucky. I beat Cecily. Time for me to get _out_. I'll collect the galleons later, dears? I believe I won about fifty."

For fifteen-year old girls, we bet pretty high. I had lost quite a _lot_ of money to Cecily over the years. And tonight was _extra_ satisfactory because most of the money I won came out of Cecily's hand. I grabbed the green chip out of the pot.

"I am going to the kitchens to _celebrate_." I fingered the small bottle of Absolut in my pocket. Celebration, indeed.

Before anyone could say a word, I ran out of our room straight to the kitchens. I was wearing a huge green visor, short shorts, and white tank top (poker attire mandatory in our games, it brings out the competitiveness in all of us and evokes the certain _je ne sais quoi_ about the environment of a poker game) with my lucky, _lucky_ green chip in my hand and looked ridiculous sprinting to the kitchens.

It was a brilliant, exhilarating rush winning was. I had missed this. I needed new poker players.

As I got the portrait, I tickled the pear excitedly and it had laughed louder than usual. The house-elves looked happy to see me (I'm a good customer) and promptly began making my usual order of junk food.

There was also another face I recognized in there. My day was complete.

"Hi Lily."

I took off my visor and smiled. "Hi James."


End file.
